Anticipation
by justme1701
Summary: When Callie runs away after the wedding, how does she find her way back? This is my first fanfic, so any advice would be appreciated. FYI...I totally do not own the Foster's or any of the characters. I just borrowed them for a bit.
1. Chapter 1

**Anticipation**

Do you ever wake up with the feeling that something is going to happen? You know, _that_ feeling. Where you feel like you may have possibly eaten a lead pipe for dinner the night before. The one that has occasionally forced you to pull the covers back over your head, because you don't want to face whatever was headed your way.

Well, this morning, I woke up with just that feeling. And I knew that there was no way that I was going to be able to hide all day in bed. Three months ago, I would have done just that. But now, I can't bring myself to do it.

Ever since I left home, well, Stef and Lena's, I've been busting my butt to try and figure myself out. So, I voluntarily did something that I swore I would never do. I went to see a therapist. Luckily, I found someone who would see me. I mean, I'm 16 with no job, no family support and no money of my own. I have virtually no belongings. I crash on Wyatt's couch for God's sake! With all that said, I lucked out with this lady.

I've been seeing Dr. Landey twice a week now for two and a half months now. And for the first time in my life, I been totally straight with someone. No attitude or false bravado. 100% honest. (I mean, seriously. What the hell is the point of seeing a therapist, if I'm not going to give her the truth?) I've told her everything. Pretty much from start to finish. About my mom, my dad, Jude, _all_ of my foster homes, Liam, my stint in juvie and finally, how I ended up with the Foster's.

And that brings me to today. I just can't shake the feeling that something, somewhere is off. But, I can't just lay here, I have an appointment. So, I stumble off the couch and begin to coach myself. Rather loudly. (And may I say, I'm glad that Wyatt isn't here to see this.) "Come on Callie. You can do this. It's just a normal chat with the Doc. How bad can it be?" As soon as I'd asked the question, I wished I could take it back. Like so many things that I'd said or done recently. The things I'd said to Stef and Lena that first night, almost getting Brandon shot, kissing Brandon and most importantly, running away. But, you can't change the past, now can you?

As I make my way to the shower, I stop briefly to grab a cup of coffee. Lucky for me, Wyatt had made a pot before he had left. I suck down the bitter brown liquid quickly, as I was wanting to be showered, dressed and out the door in thirty minutes or less.

I shower in record time. (Which is strange, seeing as I have a sense of dread falling over me. Usually, that would have slowed me to a snail's pace.) I pull on my jeans, a t-shirt and my hooded sweatshirt. And as I pull it over my head, I can't help but inhale the remnants of what I had come to believe was Stef's perfume. This is the one piece of my clothing that I haven't washed since I left. I can't. I took it from the coat rack on my way out the door the night I left, not realizing that it was hers at the time. If I close my eyes and pretend hard enough, I can see her and I can feel her hugging me. Totally nuts, I know.

I grab my backpack, my key and the disposable phone that Wyatt had given me and I ran out the door. I turned briefly to lock up. I then proceeded down the stairs and out of the building to catch the bus.

As I make my way to the bus stop, my mind wanders to the day of the wedding. The moms were so excited that day. Stef and Lena, I mean. And not just about their upcoming nuptials. They had something on their minds. They gathered the five of us in the living room for a family meeting. They had put Jude and I on the couch, while the others just stood off to the side of the room grinning. I remember feeling a swarm of butterflies as we sat there waiting. (Any other time that Jude and I had been brought to a 'meeting' like this, Bill had come to take us away. And after that whole bloody mess with Liam, I just knew they were going to send us back.) At that moment, I was prepared to argue and beg them to just keep Jude, but I got the surprise of my life. Or maybe the shock of my life. When Stef asked us how we would feel about making the situation more permanent, I could feel Jude's excitement. Hell, I could barely contain mine. But, I had to keep my cool. Jude asked, "Like adopt us?" I tore my eyes away from Stef and Lena to look at the others. I asked, "Are you guys sure you're ok with this?" Mariana nodded excitedly, Jesus smiled widely and Brandon replied, "There's enough to go around." At that moment, I knew that Jude and I were home. When Stef and Lena rushed the couch, I couldn't help but feel something that I had rarely remembered ever feeling. Happy. And elated. And excitement. It's hard to comprehend how I ruined everything less that six hours later by being a selfish bitch.

As I boarded the bus to head downtown, I hadn't noticed the tears that were running down my face. The bus driver looked at me and said, "Miss, are you all right?" I gave her a quick nod, deposited my change and quickly proceeded to the closest seat I could find. I ferociously wiped my eyes and face, frustrated that I had obviously broken down in public. I just don't do this. Luckily, I'll probably never see any of these people again, so my public humiliation will be brief.

As luck would have it, my stop was next. I stood up and began to make my way to the exit door. As the bus came to a stop, I gave a small wave to the driver, so as to let her know that I really was fine and then I walked down the stairs to the sidewalk. Dr. Landey's office was less than a block away, so I hustled through the crowd, trying to get to her office early enough so that I could snag another cup of coffee. But, the closer I got to her building, the heavier my stomach felt. As I grabbed the heavy door to pull it open, I got a whiff of something familiar. I couldn't pin it down, but for some reason, my stomach fell even further. I made my way to the elevator and swiped the up button. After what seemed like forever, but in reality was fifteen seconds, the doors opened, I walked in and hit the seven and let out a deep sigh as the doors closed. For the first time in weeks, I was terrified to go into the Doc's office. I couldn't put my finger on it, but something had been set in motion. When the elevator stopped at my floor and the doors opened, I debated whether or not to get off. After a few seconds, I slowly walked out of the elevator, barely escaping the doors as they closed. I slowly began to make my way down the hallway. And as I reach the suite, I grab the doorknob and am frozen. That smell again. What is it? If felt as though I was losing my mind. (Funny, right? Standing outside of my therapists office, I think I've gone crazy. The definition of irony.) Oddly enough, I know that I know that smell. I shrug my shoulders, turn the knob and walk into the waiting area. I look over at the reception desk and say, "Hey, Mindy. Is she ready?" She smiles and shakes her head before responding, "She need ten more minutes, she's finishing up with someone. Help yourself to coffee." I return the smile and head directly for the coffee pot. As I poor the liquid into my cup, I can't help but wonder about my family. I mean, the Foster's. Are they still looking for me? Did they look at all? Do they hate me? Will I ever see them again? I ponder these questions as I sip the scalding liquid and wait for the Doc.

A few minutes pass and I hear the door behind me open. I shake myself out of my reverie and turn around. The Doc speaks briefly with Mindy and gives her a brief nod. Mindy looks up and smiles, while Dr. Landey asks, "Callie, are you ready?" At that moment, I'm finding it hard to find my voice, so I just put my hands in my pockets and walk towards her.

As we walk through the door, I notice that her actual office door is closed. That door has never been closed since I've been coming here. That door is _always _open. For some reason, I find this unsettling. She stops at the opening of the quiet room to allow me to enter first. As I cross the threshold, I smell it again. At this point, I know the universe is up to something. I cross the room and head straight for the couch. I plop down on the floor and remove my backpack and toss it down next to me. (For some reason, the whole therapy couch thing freaks me out, so, I sit on the floor in front of it.) I lean back to get somewhat comfortable. As I cross my legs in front of me, I look up and notice that the Doc has taken to pacing on the other side of the room. Her actions did nothing to settle my fears. So, in an effort to lighten the situation, I say, "What's up Doc?" When I see the look on her face, I realize that my little attempt at humor had failed miserably. I look down briefly at my hands, curious as to what has caused her to act so completely out of character. When I finally look back up, I see that her pacing has long since resumed. All at once, I am quite sure that the proverbial shit has hit the fan. So, with all the courage I can muster, I boldly ask, "What the hell is going on?! You are freaking me out! And that is making me feel worse that I was already. Can you please just stop pacing and talk to me? Tell me what I've done!"

Somewhere during my rant she had stopped pacing and had turned to face me. The look on her face was one of pure and utter shock. When I had finished, she nodded and went to sit in her recliner. I watched her quietly for a minute or so. She was visibly struggling with something, so again I spoke, but this time quietly, "Please." I patiently waited.

She finally lifted her eyes to look at me. With a nervous smile, she began to speak. "I need you to know that I've been back and forth about this. After you accidentally let the names of your foster mom's slip, I've struggled with what to do with that knowledge. I know why you felt you had to leave and I know that you believe that you don't deserve what Stef and Lena were offering after what happened with Brandon. I also know how badly you miss them. How much you wish you could go back and change things. We both know that that's not possible. But, I do believe that you can set things back on course. You can receive the love that you've been desperately craving. And with all of this in mind, I came to a decision."

As she paused, I realized that I had started shaking slightly and had begun wringing my hands. My anxiety was growing with each word. And then she continued, "Callie. You're a minor. You're a ward of the state. But you did come to me on your own and I commend you for that. So, I had to make a judgement call. Wait. I can see the fear on your face. I didn't call Bill or the police for that matter. I need you to believe that. Trust me." By this point sheer terror was setting in? Who was left to call? The tears rolled down my face as everything she had said sunk in. I looked down at my legs and wrapped my arms around myself. I could feel myself coming undone. In the background, I heard a door open. I couldn't bring myself to look. I felt so utterly betrayed. As the tears continued to fall, I began to hear hushed voices. I began to panic. I leaned over to quickly grab my backpack and as I did, I noticed a familiar pair of sneakers. And all at once, that scent overwhelmed me. But, I could not bring myself to look. I didn't want to look up and it not be real. I wanted to believe for one minute that she was standing there. I pulled my hand back, closed my eyes and started to wring my hands. I took a slow deep breath and let that scent infiltrate my senses. That smell put me immediately at ease. But it wasn't real. She couldn't be. No one has ever cared enough to come after me. No one. I don't want this hallucination to go away. But I don't want to be nuts either. In my mind, I begin to count. 1, 2, 3... 7, 8, 9..."please make it go away, I don't want to be crazy," 13, 14, 15. Slowly, I open my eyes and raise my head. My eyes meet hers. "Stef?" I ask. I see the tears rolling down her face. And then she speaks, "Callie!" She immediately crosses the room, drops to the floor beside me and wraps her arms around me. At first, I'm terrified that I've lost my mind, but as I feel her arms tighten around me and I breathe deeply, I realize that she's really here. As uncomfortable as I normally am with type of thing, I can't help but put my arms around her. At which point, years of pent up emotion tumbled out. I was sobbing in her arms. After a few minutes, she whispered in my ear, "I'm here now, my love. I've been so worried. I've missed you, we all have. We'll fix it, all of it."

With these words, I snuggle further into her. I had needed to hear all of them. After a couple of minutes, I looked up and said, "I missed you too, Stef." I closed my eyes briefly and then said, "Mom, I want to go home."


	2. Chapter 2

_To all of you awesome, awesome readers who have favorited, followed and reviewed...thank you ever so much! I am excited that this story has been so well received. I'm unsure at this time as to how far I can take it, but I'll keep writing as long as the story continues to speak to me. Thanks again! And FYI...the disclaimer listed in the summary still stands._

**~~thefosters~~thefosters~~thefosters~~ **

As I sat in her embrace, I couldn't help but smile. I had called her 'Mom'. I had finally been able to let the word 'home' pass my lips. And to be perfectly honest, it felt good. _Very_ good. I was afraid to speak, to break the reverie. But I realized that things had to be dealt with, I had to talk. And I was really lucky that were in a place to do just that.

I tilted my head up slightly, so I could see her face. And I began to speak, "I'm sorry. I know that I shouldn't have ran. But what Jude said, about me being selfish? Well, he was right. I messed everything up. Somehow I always do. And I figured that if I left, at least Jude would be safe and happy with you and Momma. I knew that you guys would keep him if I was gone. I know how disgusted you must be with me. I mean, I'm disgusted with me. But...I was hoping that you and Momma and the others might find some way to forgive me. I just...I just want to come home now. I don't want to be alone anymore. I can't do _this_ alone anymore."

As I finished, I noticed that Dr. Landey had come back into the quiet room. She had this slightly nervous look on her face. I am guessing she is wondering whether or not she had done the right thing. And as hard as I tried, I couldn't bring myself to be angry with her for calling Mom. I was strangely relieved and even appreciative. If I'm honest with myself, it may have taken much longer than this, for me to have worked up the courage to have made that call on my own.

I felt Mom begin to shift slightly underneath me. I had neglected to take into consideration that she had been shot just a few months before and yet she was sitting on the floor, with me practically curled up in her lap as if I weighed nothing. I started to pull away, if only to allow her some blood flow to her legs and maybe to breathe more freely. She tightened her grip around me and quietly said, "No Callie, I can't let go of you yet. Sweets, please. Just stay." I could feel her shaking, trying to remain in control of her emotions. But she just couldn't hold it in any longer. The tears came quickly and they ran down her face, then landed silently on my shirt sleeve. I was unsure of what to do. No one had ever cried for me. Over me. I was stunned. Stef's tears, no, _Mom's_ tears, were for me. As I came to terms with this realization, I began to feel guilty. I had 'guilt gut'. I did all I could think to do. I began chanting, "I'm sorry." Over and over and over again.

After about twenty seconds of my repetitive apologies, Mom gently grabbed my faced and forced me to look at her. She quietly began to speak. "My baby, I need for you to hear me. To understand what I'm going to say to you. No matter what you may have done, no matter what you will do in the future, Momma and I will always love you. We will always be here for you. You can run, you can hide, but we will always, always find you. Forevermore, my love."

About halfway through her speech, my tears returned full force. Honestly, I think I've cried more today than I ever have in my whole life. And for the record, I've had plenty of reasons to cry. I just elected not to. I bottled it all the emotions up that would somehow make me appear weak. Weak could definitely make you a target in foster care. But right here, right now, in this moment, I didn't care how weak I looked. I was just relishing this time in my Mom's arms. Listening to her speak, feeling her rub my back...for the first time in my life, I felt that my heart was full. For the longest time, I thought I was dead inside. But now I felt alive.

As my tears subsided, I looked at Dr. Landey and asked her, "This was what you were talking about before, isn't it?" She looked down for a moment, then her head snapped up in realization. She answered me with a smile, "Yes. This is _exactly_ what I meant. I wasn't sure if I made sense when I explained it to you, but yes. And Callie, I'm glad that you've finally found what you've been searching for."

A couple of minutes passed in silence. Each of us contemplating what all had transpired in such a short amount of time. I mean it's only 10:25. In twenty five minutes, my life had completely shifted from a self-loathing, lonely, guilty existence, to one of fullness, love and yes, still some guilt. Maybe the guilt will never totally go away. Who knows.

As I sat debating my next move, Mom slowly pulled herself away from me on the floor to a standing position. She stood up next to me and said, "As much as I would like to continue sitting on that hard floor with you, this old body needs to have a quick stretch, my love."

At that moment I felt as though I had been dowsed with freezing cold water. I couldn't help but feel as though she had done more that physically pull away from me. I looked at my hands pondering if there is really such a thing as to long a hug. While thinking to myself, I didn't realize that Mom had been waiting for some sort of response. Verbal or otherwise. I could feel her gaze on me immediately. I quickly tried to put my 'badass Callie' mask in place before she was able to read the emotions that were clearly written all over my face. But I wasn't quick enough. Epic fail. She quickly bent down and offered her hands to me. I looked up at her with a fresh batch of unshed tears and said, "You let go."

Realization dawned immediately. She bent even further down and grabbed my hands, giving a pull. I slowly rose to my feet and she then re-wrapped her arms around me. She spoke slowly and clearly when she said, "I have _never_ let go of my babies. There is an invisible thread between us. Between you and me, Momma and you, Momma and me and all the others. That thread is unconditional and infinite love. It can never, never, never be broken. Even if I'm not physically holding you, it doesn't mean that I've let go. Because that thread is always going to be there. No one can take that away. With that said, I need you to understand that I physically had to move myself off of the floor. Ever since the shooting, it hurts me to stay in one position to long. That is all that it was, my love. I'm so very sorry if I've hurt you, sweets. You have to know that I would've remained on that floor all day and all night with you if my body could handle it. You know this, yes?"

I pulled back slightly and gave her a nod acknowledging my agreement. I felt myself begin to relax in her embrace again. I took a couple of seconds to reassure myself that she wasn't going to let me go, I looked over her shoulder at Dr. Landey, who had remained unnaturally quiet through most of this appointment. "Can we please just do this already?" I asked her. I then added, "I want to go home. Now. Yesterday, even. _Please._" I saw her shift her eyebrows and she answered swiftly, "Yes ma'am. Let's get this show on the road."

I pulled back from Mom and said, "I need to talk to you, to tell you some things. Is that ok?" I fidgeted while I waited for her response. She quickly replied, "Of course, love. If you want to hash some of this out here, we will. But on one very important condition...I have to sit on that couch! My butt and my back are _killing me_!"

We traveled the short distance to the couch and sat down side by side. Mom grabbed my left hand as she settled into the cushions. She sighed deeply and I could visibly see that she was hurting. For a few moments, I felt bad about my earlier reaction to her needing to get off of the floor. I knew that she was uncomfortable, but I needed that closeness. I hate admitting that, even to myself. I closed my eyes briefly to gather my wits about me. As I opened my eyes, I squeezed Mom's hand and began to speak, "I've been coming here almost since I left home. I never have been fond of therapy or therapists. Probably because I was forced to see therapists the whole time that I was in foster care. The bad thing was that they reported everything back to Bill. If I said something they didn't approve of or if they had felt I had done something wrong, it went to Bill. Then it went directly to my file. So, eventually, I just stopped talking. I stopped cooperating. So, my deciding to come here is _definitely _out of character for me. And at first, it was hard. I had to make myself come. I had to force myself to speak. But I want you to know...that I've not bull shitted while I've been here. I talked, I worked hard and I told the truth. All of it. And I've told the Doc everything. Even the very stupid thing I did at your wedding." I pause to take a breath. I close my eyes and I can feel the 'guilt gut' returning full force. I breathe in and out slowly. Inhaling the scent that I've now fully identified as my Mom. With her hand in mine, I settle myself enough to continue. I open my eyes and spit out, "IkissedBrandon! I am so, so sorry Mom. It'll never happen again. I know I'm selfish and it was a shitty thing to do, but I was so confused. It should have never happened!" The last few words out of my mouth were very nearly shouted. My emotions were definitely beginning to get the better of me. I thought I was in control enough to remain calm. Apparently, I may have been wrong.

My heart began to beat erratically. My legs were bouncing up and down like a spring. Throughout my confession, I had been looking at Dr. Landey. She would nod on occasion and smiled softly, to encourage me to keep on. Even as I had stopped speaking I was still focused on the Doc. I was afraid to shift my focus to Mom. I was trying hard to gauge Mom's reaction without having to look at her.

I felt Mom shift on the cushions next to me, but I was still to frightened to look in her direction. Her hand left mine and for the second time in an hour, she turned my head to her. I was unable to lift my eyes to hers until she spoke the words, "In my eyes, my love." While it was spoken gently and with reverence, I knew that this was far from a request. I immediately complied. As soon as my dark eyes met hers she calmly said, "Callie, I know about Brandon. He told us the minute we woke up and realized that you had left. He didn't even try to hide what had happened with the two of you. He knew. He knew that you were both wrong. Both confused. Him about Talya, you, well, you were confused about many things. But most importantly, he knew that the truth had to be told if we had any hope of finding our baby. At that moment we weren't all consumed with what you and B had done, but more with our baby was gone. Sweets, don't misunderstand me, we are far from joyful about that particular revelation, but our concern in that moment was that we could not find our oldest daughter. Fear consumed your Momma and I, my love. As hours turned to days, days to weeks, weeks to months, our fear mounted. Then a week ago, one phone call changed everything. Just when I thought I nearing the very end of my sanity, Dr. Landey called. And all of the sudden, I felt like I could breathe again. I knew where my baby was. And it took every bit of self control that I have to wait until the appointment today. But I knew that if I just came and stole you away and drug you home kicking and screaming, it would only be a matter of time before you left us once again. And that would have destroyed us all. So I did it Dr. Landey's way. I waited. And here I am. But hear me now Callie Jacobs Foster...what happened with you and B is forgiven, but it will never happen again. And _this_? _This_ disappearing can not happen again. No more running away, young lady. We can work anything out as a family. But the running away will _never happen_ again, correct?"

I responded immediately. "No. Never again."

Throughout her plea, she maintained her grip on my face, never once losing eye contact with me. I have never felt so humbled, loved and so very guilty. (And yes, I mean all at once.) Finally, she moves one hand to the back of my head, pulls me to her and kisses my forehead. She then drops her hands from my face and head and re-settles into the cushions. She takes my hand back in hers and waits.

I sat frozen for what seemed like hours. I was just stuck. Until Dr. Landey said, "Callie, why don't you tell Stef why. Why that kiss even happened. And then maybe, things will be seen just a little differently and it can be put in the past, where it belongs."

I nodded and said, "I've never been happy, never really felt love. And to be honest the whole love thing confused the hell out of me. I mean, Liam told me that he loved me, then he raped me. No one else has ever said those words to me. Until today. I guess maybe mine and Jude's birth mom did, but, I don't really remember. So to say that I've been looking for something my whole life is really an understatement." I paused and took a slow deep breath. I felt Mom squeeze my hand, so I continued. "Somewhere along the way, I began believing that I didn't deserve love. That even if someone said that the loved me, they would hurt me. That the prospect of me finding happiness would never happen. Then I got dropped on your doorstep. So, when B told me that I deserved to be happy and that I deserved to be loved, I confused what he said. I twisted it. I was never looking for a romantic love, I was looking for that parental, everlasting thing. But like I said, I got it twisted. So, next came the emotions, the confusion, the hormones, then the kissing. And then Jude. I knew during the kiss I was wrong, that it wasn't the love I was looking for. That I was jeopardizing everything. But until I heard the gate open, I just couldn't stop it. I was so wrong...I'm so very sorry Mom." And with the apology, I let my emotions go. I let the tears come. I let go of the pain and the guilt that I'd been carrying for so long. And I hoped, that this would be the last time I would get worked up over this.

When I had settled again, I felt there was one last thing I needed to ask. And with any hope, I'll hear the answer I so desperately needed to hear. I turned my head to Mom and gave her hand a tug. She turned to me with a small smile and raises her eyebrows in a silent question.

"Mom...can I come home now? I mean, can we go home? Please?" I was very nearly begging. I know that things are far from completely settled. And that I'll likely be punished for my poor choices, but I just want to go home. To my family. B, Jesus, Mariana, Jude and my Moms.

I watch her face as her smile widens and a lone tear rolls down her face. And she finally speaks with a waver in her voice, "Sweets, let's go home."

I jump up and grab my backpack and head for the door to the waiting area. I hear my Mom's voice over my shoulder, "Callie Jacobs Foster! Manners!" In my rush to get out of there, I had forgotten to thank the Doc and to say goodbye. I spun around quickly and shook the Doc's hand and said, "Thank you. For everything. And, uh, since we only live forty five minutes from here, would it still be ok if I were to still see you? Like maybe once a week?" During the last question, I looked at Mom and she nodded her permission. She then followed suit and said goodbye to the Doc. Shaking her hand and thanking her for all she had done. We then made our way to the door. As I turned the knob and proceeded through the door, I heard Mom's gravelly voice behind me. "Things aren't going to be easy, love. We'll all have to work together to get through it. But we can do it. Callie, you have to talk to us. Momma and I. No running, ok?" We had made it to the outer door as she finished her statement. I answered her as we exited the suite. "Yes. I'll talk. Well, I'll do my best. I'll do better."

We had finally made it to the ground floor and it dawned on me that she had used my full name twice today. But she had added to it. As we walked out of the spinning door and made our way to her vehicle, I asked, "Callie Jacobs _Foster_?" She looked at me with the largest grin I had seen yet today and said, "Well, that's your name, isn't it?" I smirked and opened the car door. I threw my backpack into the backseat and climbed in. As I was securing my seat belt, Mom reached over and handed me her cell phone. I looked at her questioningly. She said, "Call Momma. She's been worried."

So, with shaking fingers, I dial the number I know by heart. After one ring, it's answered. I hear a voice. _Her_ voice. "Stef?" She asks, worriedly. With a shaky voice, I say, "Momma...I'm coming home."


	3. Chapter 3

_To all of you awesome, awesome readers who have favorited, followed and reviewed...thank you ever so much! I am excited that this story has been so well received. I'm unsure at this time as to how far I can take it, but I'll keep writing as long as the story continues to speak to me. Thanks again! And FYI...the disclaimer listed in the summary still stands._

**~~thefosters~~thefosters~~thefosters~~**

With those four words, something inside me broke. While I had hoped that I was done crying for the day (or forever), it was quite apparent that that was far from being the case. So many feelings. _New _feelings. I mean, I've experienced all sorts of _bad_ feelings. I've felt pain. Anger. Frustration. And even hate. But, these. These feelings are different. I feel...joy. And happiness. So these tears weren't regular old tears. These were happy tears. And to tell the truth, it's totally freaking me out.

On the other end of the phone, I heard her release a huge sigh of relief. I was trying to collect myself, so that I would be able to answer the myriad of questions that would soon be coming my way. And I wanted to be able to do it without stuttering the whole way through. I heard her take a breath, so I steeled myself for what was to come. Lena's words rushed out excitedly. "Callie! Are you with Stef? Are you safe? Are you ok? Where are you? Are you on your way home? And wait...did you just call me Momma?!"

I looked over at Mom and noticed that she was watching me amused, with her eyebrows raised. I got the impression she'd overheard everything that her wife had just asked me. She waved her hand in the air to encourage me to answer Momma's questions. I began to speak and answered all her questions in the order she had asked them. "Yes, I'm with Mom. I'm safe and I'm mostly ok. We're about an hour away and we'll be heading there as soon as we stop by Wyatt's. I want to grab my stuff, leave a note, as well as his key and extra cell phone. And yes, Lena. I did call you Momma. I mean, is that ok? If it's not, I can call you Lena still. I mean, whatever is better for you."

As I finished, I felt Mom's hand on my shoulder. I was a bit nervous to hear her response. But, as quickly as I'd finished, she spoke softly, "If you're comfortable calling me Momma, I'm more than happy to answer to that. I'm honored that you are ready and willing to start to finally open up to us, Callie. I want you to feel like you can fully trust in us. I know that things got off track, but if we are strong and work together, we can fix all of this. I know we can." I could tell that there was more, so I remained quiet, as I listened to her breathe in before finishing. When she began again, her voice seemed stronger and held an air of authority. "But, Callie, if you _ever_, _ever_, pull a stunt like this again, you'll be so grounded that you'll be doing school from your and Mariana's bedroom. Do you understand what I am saying to you?"

My eyes had grown wide in response to the last part of her speech. I felt Mom squeeze my shoulder in support, due to her having had heard her wife's statement. I quickly responded with a sure and respectful, "Yes, ma'am." And although she made no sound, from the way Mom's hand was shaking, I could tell that she was trying not to laugh out loud at my out of character response. As I turned in my seat to face her, she finally let out a loud and hearty laugh. I shot her my trademark smirk to silence her, but that only made her laugh harder. Finally, she removed her hand from my shoulder and turned to start the car.

As Mom continued to try and control herself, I heard Momma's voice once more. She said, "Callie, put Stef on for me and you guys hurry home, please. And Callie...I love you."

In a small voice, I responded, "I love you, too." I then passed the phone to Mom and settled back in the passenger seat to wait for them to finish.

I didn't know how their conversation was going to last, so I closed my eyes and tried to clear my mind. There were so many things swirling through my mind as I tried to partially listen to Mom's end of the conversation with Momma. Mom was doing her best to keep up with the many questions that Momma seemed to be throwing at her. After what seemed like a million questions, Mom ended their conversation with an _I love you _and a _see you soon, love_. She turned and looked at me silently for a moment and then said, "Momma is going to send the boys to Mike's for the night. And Mariana is going to Lexi's. This way, you won't be bombarded with drama and questions the minute we get back. So, it's just going to be you, me and Momma tonight. It'll give us a chance to have some one on one time with our oldest daughter. With all that's happened, I think that we all will benefit from this. The three of us need to be able to sit down and talk without all of the interference from the others. And I realize that the whole 'one on one' thing may be a little uncomfortable and different for you, but Momma and I really need to have this time with you. Ok?"

I have to admit that I was a little bummed about not being able to see Jude right away, but the more I thought about it, I realized that the Mom's were right. Jude didn't need to hear everything that the Mom's and I were going to talk about. And while I really wanted to wrap my arms around Jude and see B, Jesus and Mariana, there would be no way that the Mom's and I would be able to come to any resolution if they were there. The five of us together could be overwhelming at the best of times and drama seems to follow us all in some form of another. So, I nodded my had in affirmation before saying, "You're both right. It'll be good to have one night to settle in again before all of the chaos starts again." I pause briefly before I finish quietly. 'And for the record, no one has ever wanted to spend 'one on one' time with me. It's just never happened before. Maybe with my birth mom, but I don't really remember. I think it's kind of...cool." When I finally finished, Mom grabbed my hand and gave it a quick squeeze. She said, "I'm so glad you're coming home! It'll finally give us the opportunity to show us just how very much we love you. Now...let's get to Wyatt's. We need to get moving. Momma is chomping at the bit to see you for herself!"

As she pulled into traffic, we fell into a comfortable silence. The only words that were spoken on the way to Wyatt's, were the ones that came out of my mouth to offer directions to Mom. You know, _go straight_, _turn left at the next light_, _turn left here_. When we arrived, Mom asked if I wanted her to come inside with me. I assured her that I'd only be a few minutes. I opened the car door, hopped out and ran up the stairs to the apartment. I put the key in the lock, turned the doorknob and made my way quickly to the kitchen to locate a pen and paper. When I found what I needed, I wrote a quick note for Wyatt. It said:

Wyatt,

You've been telling me for

weeks to go home.

To my family.

To follow my heart.

So, with help from the

Doc, that's exactly what I'm

gonna do. Stef came to take

me home.

Thanks for all you've done.

Be safe...I'll call you!

Callie

PS The phone and key are in

the junk drawer.

As soon as I finished the note, I dropped the key and the phone in the junk drawer. I walked straight to the coat closet by the front door and pulled my suitcase out. My _never_ unpacked suitcase. There has never been a reason to completely unpack my suitcase before. Not at any of the foster homes I had been in. And not here either. You don't unpack unless it's permanent. And nowhere had ever been that. Until the Foster's. I was slowly beginning to unpack when the whole Brandon thing happened. Then I went right back to living out of a suitcase. This is why it has always been so easy to pack up and go. Because really, I never had to repack. I always stayed packed. No matter where I was. And now I was going home. Back to the place where I had actually contemplated unpacking. I find myself truly hoping that this time, I would finally be able to completely unpack. And never have to use it again.

I quickly looked around the room to be sure that I wasn't leaving anything behind. And when I was satisfied that in fact I had everything that I had come with, I walked through the door, locked it and pulled it closed behind me. With renewed energy, I bounded down the stairs and out the door to rejoin Mom in the car. I lifted the hatchback and tossed my suitcase in. As I began to close it again, I noticed Mom's door swing open. She climbed out and walked towards me. As I tuned around to face her, she pulled me into her arms and said, "I'm just so glad you're here, sweets." I closed my eyes and relished being in her arms and hearing those words. She pulls back and says, "Let's go home, my love. Momma's waiting for us." And with that, we separate and return to the car. I re-buckle my seat belt and get comfortable for the ride.

The closer we got to the house, the more anxious I became. My hands were shaking, my knees were going a mile a minute. I just could not sit still. Every few minutes, Mom would cast a sidelong glance at me with her eyebrows raised, then return to her driving. After doing that four or five times, she said, "Love, relax. It's gonna be just fine." I nod at her, assuring her that I had indeed heard what she had said. I _had_ heard her. I was just a little wigged out. I wasn't sure what to expect. Anger? Yelling? Tears? Momma always seemed pretty cool and collected. She was good with words and her voice calmed all of us. But knowing that I'd hurt all of them. I'd hurt _her_. I just didn't know. I wondered what words she would utter when she were to finally see me. At this point, it scared the crap out of me to even speculate. But I couldn't help it. And as I began to ponder scenarios and possibilities of what may happen, the house began to come into view.

As soon as I saw the house, my mouth went dry and my eyes widened. We pull into the driveway and I freeze. My breath hitches and I'm unable to function any longer. I can feel my world crashing in around me. And then my car door opens. I hear Mom say, "Welcome home, sweets. But as nice as it is out here today, we should really get inside. Momma is probably near cardiac arrest."

I feel my body relax at the sound of her voice. And I somehow gather up the courage to unbuckle and get out of my seat. I open the back passenger door to retrieve my backpack and then proceed to throw it over my shoulder. Mom already had my suitcase out and was waiting for me as I turned away from the car. She grabbed my right hand and led me up the sidewalk to the steps of the house.

As we reached the bottom step, the front door flew open. Momma came quickly down the steps and flew into my arms. It took me a second to respond due to the shock of her entrance. My hand fell from Mom's and I wrapped both of my arms firmly around Momma. For an unknown amount of time, we just stood outside of the house holding each other. I could feel her hot tears on my cheek. It makes me feel horrible knowing that I am the cause of these tears, so I try to pull away from her. But Momma wasn't ready for me to let go yet. She pulled me even closer and held me even tighter. Suddenly, I felt Mom behind me. She wrapped her arms around the both of us, burying her face in the back of my hair. After a minute or so, she said, "Momma sandwich." I couldn't help but giggle at that. I still felt like crap about making Momma cry, but it's just the way that she said it.

After a couple more minutes passed, the Mom's stepped back. Momma said, "Let's go inside. I've made us some lunch and we have some things that we need to discuss. Come on you."

We made our way up the steps and into the house. Everything looked the same. I don't know why I thought it wouldn't, but I thankful that it did. I heard Mom close and lock the door. She placed my suitcase at the bottom of the stairs, so I tossed my backpack down on the floor beside it.

The three of us then filed into the kitchen. I sat down on one of the stools at the island and look back and forth between the two of them. It was apparent that no one wanted to be the first to address the elephant in the room. And considering the promise I had made to Mom just a couple of hours ago, I took a long deep breath and said with conviction, "It's feels good to be home."


	4. Chapter 4

_To all of you awesome, awesome readers who have favorited, followed and reviewed...thank you ever so much! I am excited that this story has been so well received. I'm unsure at this time as to how far I can take it, but I'll keep writing as long as the story continues to speak to me. Thanks again! And FYI...the disclaimer listed in the summary still stands._

**~~thefosters~~thefosters~~thefosters~~**

I am definitely becoming one to make profound statements. I realize that I've always had a talent for stating the obvious (not always gracefully, mind you), but today it seems as though I've become quite the show stopper. That statement definitely broke the proverbial ice. It's such a simple word. The word 'home'. And it seems that my declaration has completely taken the Mom's by surprise. So much so, that they were both looking at me like I had just grown a second head.

After a few moments of stunned silence, Mom shook herself out of her daze and said, "And we are so glad that you're back. So very glad. But do you have any idea how incredibly worried we were? How many hours that we looked for you? I'm not going to lie to you. I was angry. Hell, I'm still angry. But right now, the fact that you are standing in front of me, that I can reach out and physically touch you and see that you are safe and sound, makes me feel so incredibly relieved. And that is pretty much the _only_ reason that you've not been sent to your room to stay. Until your 21st birthday. I really hope that you'll be understanding over the next few days. We need to assure ourselves that you're going to stay put. So we may be sticking close to you...a little more than usual. We don't want you to be uncomfortable, so if we get to be overly clingy, you'll tell us, yes?"

I nodded my head. It was as if in that moment, all words failed me. Confusion began to set in as I began to debate their sincerity. No one ever wanted to be sure of anything where I was concerned, so to say I was baffled, was the understatement of the year. The more my mind went back and forth, the more I began to panic. What if when all the talking was done, they decided to just call Bill to come and take me? What if they decided that I just wasn't worth the time and effort? As I continued going over the many possible catastrophes in my head, I heard a dish being set down on the island top. I looked up to see Momma standing directly across from me. She reached over the counter and took both of my hands into hers. I tried to pull away, but she shook her head and increased the tightness of her grip. I could tell that she wanted to speak, but it seems as though she is having the same trouble that I had been having. Words just wouldn't come out. I cocked my head to the side and waited. I noticed Mom out of the corner of my eye. She walked over to where Momma stood and placed her hand on the small of her back and started to rub circles lightly. This must have done the trick, because all at once, Momma spoke with conviction.

She said, "Callie, I can see the struggle in your eyes. I realize that it's hard for you to accept that we're fighting for you. Fighting to keep you with us. To accept that we love you. To accept that we are even _willing_ to try. But I need for you to try and grant us a little bit of trust. We all need you to. And I can see how hard that that is going to be for you. But we need you to try. To try and believe the things that we are telling you. That we love you. All of us. So, so much. I understand that with all that's happened in your life, you've come to believe that no one is on your side. But we are. We will _always_ be on your side. Now and forever."

At that moment I couldn't take anymore. My mind was overwhelmed. I blurted out, "Why? Why do you care so much? I'm nothing. I'm no one special. At some point you're going to _want_ me gone. I'll do something stupid and you'll make me leave. Everyone does. And it's just going to wind up hurting more if I've let down my walls and let you completely in. I'm not going to lie. I'm totally scared and conflicted. In one day, I've started calling you Mom's and calling this house my home. I've never done that before. Ever. And I want more than anything to trust you and believe. But my head keeps screaming that this can't possibly be happening. That it's not real. That it's not true."

The Mom's both study me for a few minutes. I could almost see the wheels turning in their heads. And they both seemed unsure as to whether or not they should respond. All of the sudden, it's as if a light bulb had turned on over Momma's head. She squeezes my hands as she releases them and then reaches down to open the drawer that she's standing in front of. The drawer that I know contains the files on Jude and I. She pulls one out and then opens another drawer near her. From that drawer she grabs a Bic stick lighter. She sets the file and the lighter on the island top. I look over at Mom, wondering if she had any clue as to what was going through her wife's head. And after a second, a look of realization crosses her face. She notices the way that I am looking at her and she holds her hand up...as if to say, _wait for it_. I shrug and return to watching Momma, who was on her way back to the middle of the room with a large steel pot. She sits it down next to the other two items that she had previously retrieved. Again, I study the three items, curious as to where she was going with this. I look back and forth between them, my confusion mounting. I feel myself begin to get agitated. I know that there has to be a reason for the items she's brought out, but I can't figure it out. As I begin wringing my hands on the counter, I see Mom walk around the island to where I'm sitting. She steps behind me and rests her hands on my shoulders. I stiffen immediately and she leans down and whispers in my ear, "Relax, sweets. It's ok. You're ok." With that, I try to take a long, deep, cleansing breath and then breathe out all the agitation I could. I wasn't completely calm by any means. But it was a start.

I refocused my attention on Momma, who had just flipped open the file that she had taken out. She read the first page aloud. "Callie Jacobs is currently serving three months at San Diego Juvenile Corrections for vandalism." Just as my tears begin, she tears out the page, rips it into several pieces and drops it into the pot. As my tears continue, I look over my shoulder at Mom. She lifts her chin towards Momma, so I shift my gaze back to her. She begins to read again. "Callie Jacobs, along with her brother, are being removed from the Olmsteads home due to her having an inappropriate sexual relationship with their nineteen year old biological son." My tears are now pouring down my face as I watch her tear out this page, rip it into tiny little pieces and drop it into the pot. I'm still lost as to what's happening and I feel as though I'm nearing hysterics. Mom is rubbing my shoulders and making soft noises to try and soothe me as I continue to watch Momma's actions. She tears page after page out of my file, rips them into pieces and adds them to the pot. After a few minutes, I noticed that the file that has represented my life, is now empty. Momma picks up the lighter and hands it over to me. I look at it, then at her, with confusion written all over my face. She smiles sadly and clearly says, "You are _not _your file. Each page is a horrible picture of a completely broken system. It tells us that your social worker and the families that he placed you with _failed you_. Not the other way around. This file has led you to believe that you are no one. That you are worthless. That no one could possibly ever love you or want you. And that no matter where you end up, that you'll never be safe. That stops _now_. This file, these words are lies. Lies about my daughter. _Our_ daughter. And I for one, am tired of the weight it carries. So, we're going to get rid of it. And from now on, if we or anyone needs answers pertaining to Callie Jacobs _Foster_, she'll be able to answer for herself. No more Bill or anyone else. Now, I want you to stick that lighter into the pot and light that paper. And we are going to watch each and every little piece burn. It's as if you're starting over. Or being reborn."

With tears still rolling down my face, I reach into the pot and push the button to turn the lighter on. As the first piece of paper ignites, my tears begin to flow faster. I pull my hand back as I watch the tiny flames engulf the last eight years of my life. I look up to see Momma ripping up the actual file folder and she adds one piece at a time to the fire until the whole thing is gone. My tears, are now sobs as I realize that it's gone. That file. The one that has pretty much defined me my whole life, it's just gone. And I wonder where I go from here. Is it really that simple? To just burn it all away and start all over? As I continue to cry, I feel Mom slide her arms around me and pull me back into her. I cried shamelessly in her arms. I cried for the eight years I had lost. For the loss of my innocence. For the loss of my childhood. For the loss of my birth mom. I cried for the girl who never really got to be a child and who never ever learned what love was. I cried for me.

As Mom rocked me back and forth, Momma took the pot outside to the back porch. She wiped her eyes as she dumped a pitcher of water over it to be sure all of the embers had died out. She made her way back inside and went back to putting lunch onto the island. When she was finished, she walked over to where Mom was standing and I was sitting. She leaned down, placed a kiss on my cheek and said, "I know that we're all emotional right now, but when you're ready, we all need to sit down and eat something. To take a few minutes and relax, to collect ourselves. To just be together."

I nodded my agreement, even though the idea of food right now made me want to yack. As I struggle to control my emotions, I can feel my nausea rise. I take a deep breath as I notice my body flush hot then cold. I breathe once more to try and gather myself. But to my dismay, the bile rises to my throat. I jump up quickly, shrug Mom off and run around the corner to the bathroom. I barely make it to the toilet before I lurch and begin to empty my stomach's contents into the bowl. As I heaved over and over, I hear someone come up behind me. I realize in that moment that I'd forgotten to shut the door in my rush. I feel a pair of hands pull my hair back and tie it up as I continue retching. As I finish, I flush the toilet and I wipe my face with the sleeve of my sweatshirt, unsure of how long I had until the cycle would repeat itself. I leaned back against the wall, trying to relax as much as any human could in this situation. I look up to see Momma at the sink filling a cup with water. She sits down next to me and hands me the glass. I offer a shaky smile of thanks and take a few small sips. I put the cup down next to me and lean my head back, silently asking for the world to stop spinning. Momma puts her arm around my shoulder and pulls me into her. She holds me for a few minutes and then she quietly begins to recite the poem that they'd given Mariana and Jesus on their adoption day.

"We didn't give you the gift of life,

but in our hearts we know,

the love we have is deep and real,

as if it had been so...

For us to have each other,

is like a dream come true,

though we didn't give you the gift of life,

life gave us the gift of you."

When she finished reciting the poem, she pulled me closer and gave me a squeeze. She cleared her throat and spoke quietly with a waver in her voice, "You asked us earlier why we cared so much. I'm going to tell you the same thing I told Mariana the day that Stef was shot. DNA doesn't make a family, love does. In the very same way that we chose Mariana and Jesus, we are choosing you. _You_ Callie Jacobs Foster. And we couldn't be happier about it. I need you to understand that we accept you. _All_ of you. Your bad days, your good days, your past, your present, your future and everything in between. Even all of the insecurities that you may have. And we will never..._never ever_ send you away. You are a part of us now. A part of all of us. And so you know...you're wrong. You are special. You are _incredibly_ special. Don't you ever doubt that or forget it. And most importantly Callie, you are loved. So very loved."

As the last word fell from her mouth, I scrambled to get back to the toilet. I leaned forward and held onto the seat of the toilet as my stomach rebelled violently. I couldn't help but beg under my breath for this to stop. After a few dry heaves, I decided that it was done and I tried to stand so that I could go to the sink and wipe my face and rinse my mouth. My legs wobbled dangerously and I quickly dropped to my knees. Being as I couldn't get up at the moment, I leaned forward and rested my head on the toilet seat. I figured I'd just wait here until I felt a little stronger.

About the time that my second round had started I heard Momma yell for Mom. I detected a hint of panic in her voice. If I could have found a way to reassure her that I was fine, I would've done so. But I was more than a little tied up at that moment. And just as I had put my head down on the seat to rest, I heard Mom's rushed footsteps coming towards us. I heard them over my shoulder quietly discussing what needed to be done.

Suddenly, both of them were beside me. The positioned themselves one on each side of me and bent down. Each of them slid an arm under mine and proceeded to pull me to my feet. I was far to exhausted to protest. They walked me to the sink and Mom held me up while Momma wiped my face. She reached into the medicine cabinet and pulled out the toothbrush that I'd left in there the day of the wedding. She handed it to me and told me to brush. I did as I was asked and after my last swish and spit, I dropped the toothbrush into the trash can next to the sink. Mom waited for me to steady myself and then she guided me out of the room. She walked me up the stairs and down the hall to their room. I looked at her questioningly and she smiled. We walked to the bed and she said, "Climb in." I hesitated and she gave me a nudge. I crawled into the bed and settled in the middle on my left side. She cleared her throat and said, "Any time our babies are sick, they somehow end up here."

As she finished explaining, Momma joined us in the room. She walked to her side of the bed and climbed in and laid down beside me. Mom kicked off her shoes and reached down to pull mine off as well. She tossed them to the ground and climbed in on her side. Then, as if on cue, they both turned toward me. They each draped an arm over me and Mom said, "Rest easy, love. We can settle everything in a few hours."

I closed my eyes wondering how I'd gotten so lucky. No one had ever cared enough to even check on me when I was sick, let alone take care of me or lay with me. I realize that I have been taking this placement for granted. I've run my mouth and put up all my walls, all in the name of protection. When in reality, they had only wanted to help me. Maybe, just maybe, it's time to let it all go. As my breathing slowed, I began to smile. This is it. This is indeed what I'd been waiting for. Love. They _loved_ me. And with that realization, I quietly said, "I love you, too."


	5. Chapter 5

_To all of you awesome, awesome readers who have favorited, followed and reviewed...thank you ever so much! I am excited that this story has been so well received. I'm unsure at this time time as to how far I can take it, but I'll keep writing as long as the story continues to speak to me. Thanks again! And FYI...the disclaimer listed in the summary still stands._

_**Short author's note...**__After much deliberation and frustration over this chapter, I think I'm going to end this particular story here. While I've not addressed the reunion with the siblings yet, I felt like I needed to keep the Mom's and Callie somewhat separate from the rest. I think I've found a good resolution to the situation that I've presented. Hopefully, in the next week or so, I'll be able to sit down and plan how to deal with the reunion that will inevitably happen with Brandon, Jude and even the others. I may write each reunion separately or maybe four chapters of another story. I just felt that Callie needed bonding time with just the Mom's. Wrong or right, that's how it came out. And now, for the final chapter in this particular story..._

**~~thefosters~~thefosters~~thefosters~~**

As I slowly work my way back to consciousness, I hear the Mom's whispering over me. I try to even out my breathing, so that they remain unaware that I am listening to what they are saying. I need to try and assess what they are thinking and feeling about what all has happened today.

"Stef, she called me Momma today. I'm shocked! Don't get me wrong, I'm completely thrilled, but I'm shocked nonetheless. It just makes me wonder what really happened these past three months. I mean, when she left, she was still so reserved and so secretive about what she was feeling. She just seems different to me somehow. Not in a bad way, but I'm scared that we're going to let her down in some way and she's going to throw those walls back up taller than ever. We have to be careful with her. Not push to hard, to fast. I don't want to lose her again. I can't."

When she finished, Mom squeezed her hand and whispered, "Love, I'm scared too. I'm afraid that I'm going to wake up tomorrow and she's not going to be here. As if today never really happened. I'm afraid that those horrid families that had Jude and her in the past, have somehow actually killed her soul. But I'd be willing to bet that we aren't the only ones feeling fearful. And I'm not sure how to get passed it. Maybe we _all_ need to talk with Dr. Landey. She may be able to provide some incite into this whole situation. Ease our concerns, help us deal with all of our fears so that they don't wind up paralyzing us all. Callie really seems to like her. And she actually fully listened today when the doctor was speaking. She was actively listening and participating. It was awesome. And when she called me Mom...I was frozen. I was sure that I'd misheard her. But when she said it again, I couldn't help but tear up. I guess I didn't think she would feel this way, this soon. Especially after everything that had happened before she ran. And with everything that she's been through. She is definitely one tough kid. And I couldn't be prouder of her. Not for the running. But for getting the help that she needed. That she still needs. She's made so much progress. But, your right. We need to tread lightly. And we have to do our best not to push to hard. We need to let her come to us for awhile. But I'm going to be honest with you...I'm just so relieved that she's in our arms right now. You heard her before she fell asleep, yes? She said that she loves us. I thought my heart was going to burst out of my chest!"

As she finished speaking, I slowly opened my eyes and looked at Mom. She didn't notice that I had opened my eyes yet, so I said, "I think I told you earlier, but you're right. I'm scared too. I'm not used to all of this. People caring about me. Wanting me. People actually taking care of me. It seems as if my whole life has revolved around me taking care of Jude. Protecting Jude. Parenting Jude. I learned at a very young age that I couldn't depend on anyone other than myself. When we left our first foster home, I shut down. I closed off my emotions and I let my anger drive me. So, when I came here, I was out of my element. You guys were the total opposite of all the other families that we'd been with. You spoke _to_ us, not _at _us. You were actually interested in us. No one has ever noticed my interest in photography before. Or maybe they did and they just didn't care. And no one has ever taken the time to help Jude feel comfortable in own skin until we came here. It's just so different. And that scares me. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. Because I don't know if it's going to last. And that scares me. So after the whole thing with B, I just expected you to throw up your hands and toss us out. So I did the only thing I could think to do at the time. I ran. To save Jude. I had to put him first. I always have. I don't know that I'll ever to be able to stop. I figured that the only way that you'd let him stay would be if was gone. So I ran. And it sucked to be away from him. From all of you. But I knew that the only way that I was going to able to come back, was to get my shit together. So, I found the Doc. She helped me realize that I really do deserve to be happy. The problem was, I didn't get it at first. The word happy has always sounded like someone speaking a foreign language. So, hour after hour, over and over again, she asked me what would make me happy. _Me_.Not Jude. _Me_. And for the first couple of weeks, I couldn't answer. She asked me during each appointment. Then, two weeks ago, it clicked. I wanted love. To be loved. She asked me if I knew what that meant. Love. And after all that's happened in my past, I realized that I didn't. So that night when I got back to Wyatt's, I looked up the word **_love_** in the dictionary. And, strangely enough, the definition sounded incredibly familiar. It was defining you. _Both_ of you."

I paused briefly and I noticed that Mom had tears in her eyes. And at some point during my speech, Momma began rubbing circles on my back. I knew I had to continue, but for just a minute I wanted to relish just being where I was. At home. With them. It felt..._right_.

I took a deep breath and continued. "I memorized that definition. I needed to remember it. To be able to see it in my mind's eye when I have doubts. Like earlier. When I kept asking _why_. I should have taken a breath and remembered what I read. But I wigged out. I'm sorry. I'll try not to do that again."

Mom put her hand to my cheek and said, "Things have been very serious today. I think that we're _all_ a little emotional right now, that's to be expected, sweets. And I want you to know that I'm so proud of you. For getting help. For sticking with it. For not running from me today when you had the chance. And for talking with us so openly. With that said though, I'm curious. That definition...what did it say that made you think of us? It's ok if you don't want to answer, but..."

Mom trailed off and looked a little embarrassed. I smiled at her and then said, "It's fine. It's pretty much what made me pull my head out of my butt. It helped me realize that the walls I had put up were protecting me, but hurting me at the same time. _Nothing _could get in. Bad or good. So, I guess that the Doc was definitely right on this one. 'Knowledge is power'. Anyway, there were many definitions, but this is the one that really made all the difference."

'Love is unconditional affection with no limits or conditions.

It's when you trust another with your life and when you would do anything for them.

Loving someone means that you want them to be truly happy no matter what it takes

and their needs always come before your own.

Love means you would do anything and sacrifice for what would be better in the end.

If you find it, don't let it go.'

As I finished, I wiped a few tears from my eyes. I noticed Mom wiping her eyes as well. And since I no longer felt Momma's hand on my back, I could only assume that she was doing the same. I looked at Mom and wondered if I should go ahead. I know that there is a lot that we have to deal with, but Rome wasn't built in a day, right? On the other hand, maybe this situation is like a Band-Aid. I just need to rip it off. Put it all out there. That way, we can all totally move past all of this. (I hope.) And maybe I won't feel as if I need to keep looking over my shoulder all of the time. That's one of the most important things that the Doc helped me to understand. My past doesn't have to define me. It's ok to move on. To move forward. I've had a pretty shitty life. And it's made me more than cautious. But, I can't let my past continue to ruin my life. I'm being given the most awesome gift that anyone's ever given me. The Mom's are offering me a family. A _real_ family. Parents and siblings. And I came very close to ruining everything by running away. I made a choice. And it was the wrong one. But maybe it's worked out for the best. I actually got some help. And I definitely lucked out with the Doc. She's been great. And I'm definitely better off for having met her. I can only hope that my fears don't push me back into my past. I really want to keep moving forward. And with that in mind, I have to deal with everything. Sooner rather than later.

"Mom's...there are so many things I need to apologize for. The first day I was here I called you 'dyke's'. I can't even believe that I said that. I know that I hurt you both. And I am so incredibly sorry for my words. And then, the very next day, B almost gets shot by one of my foster dads. I shouldn't have let him come with me. I'm so sorry that he was put in that situation and that you all got sucked into it. Then the whole situation with Mariana...if I'd have stopped her from going to the party at Wyatt's house, she wouldn't have gotten drunk and told the Rivera's about Lexi and Jesus. And if I'd have told you about Mariana selling the pills and giving the money to Ana, then maybe Mom wouldn't have been shot. There is no way in the world that I can ever apologize enough for that. I'm so sorry Mom's! And finally, kissing Brandon. I don't want you to think that I'm making excuses, because I'm not. I messed up. But that day was so emotional for me. One minute I felt ecstatic, then scared, then happy, then confused. I was all over the place. I had no way to sort it all out. So when B and I got to talking, all of my emotions seemed to get the better of me. I couldn't make heads or tails of what I was truly feeling and why. So...I kissed him. Or...we kissed. Whatever. My point is, I screwed up. It shouldn't have happened. And then I ran. I just couldn't tell you what had happened. I was positive that you were going to send me away anyway. So I split. I know now that I should have talked to you both. I just wasn't able to at that point. I know I can't just turn back time. Or just take it all back. I know that I made a huge mess out of everything. And you have every right to be mad at me. But, I hope that you guys will be able to find some way to forgive me. Please forgive me. _Please_."

As I finish speaking, I can't help but feel a bit of relief. I feel like a heavy weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. But I am still a little worried that they may not be able to forgive me yet. Or maybe even not at all. And even though the Doc reassured me that the Mom's would most likely accept my apologies, I couldn't help but feel fearful. I've always felt disposable, worthless. No one has ever just wanted me for me. And now that I'm in a situation where everything good is a possibility, I go and make a mess of it all.

I am worrying my lip when I feel Mom's hand on mine. She laces our fingers together and pulls me towards her. As I lay with my head on her chest, she quietly says, "That was quite a list, sweets. And much of it, is in no way your responsibility. The situations that have come up with Mariana and Jesus are not on you. My getting shot is not on you. Do you understand? You are not responsible for everything, my love. Not even close. Now as for the things that you said on that first night, you're forgiven. I'm pretty certain that I forgave you that night. I'm fairly certain that Momma did, too. And as for B going with you that night to see Jude, well, you could not have predicted that that lunatic was going to pull a gun. And for the record, B has his own mind. So, I'm fairly certain that he would have gone with you whether you had let him or not. Granted, you were both very wrong in how you handled things, but you went there with the best of intentions. You have both been forgiven for your actions on that night and I know that we all learned some very important things from that particular situation. And the only other thing that you mentioned that you had any part in at all, was the whole kissing thing between you and Brandon. We have spoken extensively with Brandon and he has expressed his apologies for what happened. Between the Talya situation, hormones and everyone's emotions all being out of whack that day, I can see how things got out of hand. And with everything that you've told us today, I can see that you were struggling as well. And I am incredibly sorry that Momma and I didn't see it then. We were so engrossed in wedding plans and in each other, that we just weren't paying close enough attention to our babies. So yes, love. We forgive you for what happened. _Both_ of you. And even for the decision that you made afterward. But just as I've told Brandon in the past, you don't do that. You don't run away. You can be as upset as you need to be, but you are not allowed to run away. I realize that after all that you and Jude have been through, that you felt like you couldn't come to us. But we need you to do just that. _Come_ to us. Even if we get angry. Or you somehow end up hurting our feelings. We will always, always be here for our babies. _All_ of our babies. B, Mariana and Jesus _and_ for you Jude. And that is never going to change. Not ever."

I realized as Mom finished that things were different now. I am no longer 100% responsible for Jude's safety and happiness. I no longer have to be a mom to a twelve year old boy. And most importantly, _I _have a mom. _No_. I have _two_ moms. A family. I never thought in a million years that something like this would happen for us. For me. It feels...good. To have someone care about me. About what I do. About how I'm feeling. And...to be hugged and held. I haven't had anyone hug or hold me since my mom. Eight years. It's been eight long years since anyone gave a damn. And now, here I am. Laying in bed with the Mom's, being held and comforted. For a brief moment, I wonder to myself if this is normal. I mean, I'm sixteen years old for God's sake! How many teenagers still lay with or cuddle with their mom's? And then I realize that I know at least three that do.

I lay silent in Mom's arms for what seems like an eternity. And even though she has told me that I've been forgiven for what all I've done, I'm still unable to completely shake the feeling that somehow I'm going to screw it all up again. So I ask them, "What if I mess up again? What if you decide that I'm just not worth it? What then?" I can't stop the sob that escapes me. As good as it feels to be in the here and now, I can't help but wonder about the future.

I feel the bed shift as Momma gets up and I wonder if what I've said has upset her. Messed up already. I watch her out of the corner of my eyes, walking to the opposite side of the bed. She lays down behind Mom and props her head up on her hand so that she can see me over Mom's shoulder. She studies me for a moment and then with tears in her eyes, she says, "Callie, you will mess up again. You're a kid! A teenager. And as such, you're entitled to make mistakes. And it's our job as your Mom's to correct you and to guide you. To help you in any way that we can. And even to punish you when it's appropriate. And most importantly, to love you. To love you through it all. _No matter what_. For always. And I never want to hear you say anything about your being worthless again. You're talking about my daughter. _Our _daughter. And you will always be with it. Don't you ever forget that."

As she finished, she leaned over Mom and gently kissed the top of my head. I felt the bed move again and I watched Momma as she made her way to the bedroom door. Before she walked into the hallway she said, "It's getting late. We all missed lunch and it's getting close to dinner time. Let's take a break and go put some food into our bellies. We could all use some fuel."

I pushed myself up and started to crawl off Momma's side of the bed, but Mom grabbed my hand to stop me. I look back at her, wondering what she could need from me in that moment. "Promise me, Callie. Promise me that you won't run again. These have been the longest three months of my life. We thought that we'd lost you for good. I need you to say it out loud. Promise."

I turned my body fully in the bed, so that I was looking straight at her. I said, "I don't make promises that I can't keep. I never have and I never will. But I think that I can keep this one. So yes. I promise you. No more running."

She reaches over and pulls me into a quick hug. She holds me for a few seconds and pulls away with a smile. She says, "Let's go. I need coffee. Stat!"

I laugh out loud at the coffee comment as we crawl off of the bed and make our way down to the kitchen. I can hear Momma clinking around, getting things together. As I turn the corner, I watch the Mom's just doing what they do. And I realize in that moment, how lucky I really am. To be here. With them. And after all of the waiting, all of the fear and all of the anticipation, I finally have what I've always wanted. Love. The love of a family.

My name is Callie Jacobs Foster. I am sixteen years old and I am the daughter of Stef and Lena Foster. I am a sister to Brandon, Mariana, Jesus and Jude Foster. And this...this is where I'm meant to be. And it is awesome.


End file.
